


The Captain's Enchantment

by jellyryans (ryankellycc)



Series: Burning Deep, Burning Bright [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Sappy, pro quidditch pals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 17:41:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15778932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryankellycc/pseuds/jellyryans
Summary: As the Captain of Japan's National Quidditch Team, Sawamura Daichi has very little room in his life for anything else. However, after one of his teammates shoves a photograph in his face, he realizes he might have to rethink his stance on distraction.





	The Captain's Enchantment

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day three of Daisuga Week 2018. Prompt: magic. 
> 
> This work is part of a series, but I don't think you have to read the other parts to enjoy this piece!

Daichi saw the practice tent just up ahead, getting closer and closer with each step forward, but the November morning chill had already clawed its way through the layers of his practice robes. He shivered and tried to ignore the wind as it whipped at his face, focusing intently on the Japanese flag that welcomed him home after a few grueling days in France.

They had won their match against the French National Team by a slim margin, slimmer than it had been against Bulgaria a couple weeks before and much too close for comfort. It wasn’t just the score that bothered him; the match itself had taken much longer than usual, and Daichi still couldn’t decide whether the fault was on their end or France’s. Kageyama had been unusually distracted, but France had been forced to use their backup Seeker. 

He wasn’t afraid of France’s seeker, but if Oikawa Tooru had been flying against a distracted Kageyama, he wasn’t sure the match would’ve ended in their favor. 

No matter what the reason, it was too early in the season for the team to be on edge, and Daichi couldn’t help but wonder if it had anything to do with their week in Hogsmeade, right before Bulgaria. 

On one hand, they had all needed a break from their setup near Mahoutokoro, and Hogsmeade had absolutely lived up to its reputation as a world class tourist destination. And, professionally speaking, the trip had not only gave them a taste of the Quidditch facilities at Hogwarts but also allowed Daichi the unique experience of scouting potential players directly from the school, which the Japanese National Team had never done before. 

Daichi had high expectations, having graduated from one of the top Quidditch schools in the wizarding world and earning a seat on a professional team immediately after, but the players on the Hogwarts house teams had exceeded many of them. 

Perhaps not unexpectedly, flashes of orange dashed through Daichi’s memory. The little yellow-robed Beater was good, surprisingly so, and he had somehow managed to rattle their ever-serious (and perpetually aloof) genius Seeker. The part of Daichi that considered Kageyama a friend was grateful that someone had gotten through to him on a personal level, but, as a Captain, he couldn’t afford for Kageyama to be distracted much longer. 

The situation might’ve been manageable if it had just been Kageyama who was affected by their jaunt in England, but the shocking reappearance of Durmstrang’s missing star-Chaser had made Nishinoya more troublesome than ever, which meant instead of being a handful, he was a hurricane, and he had a bad habit of sweeping everyone else up along with him. He had only agreed to play against Bulgaria a couple days before the match, and had taken every ounce of Daichi’s limited patience to corral him long enough to herd him into the match against France. 

Daichi wondered if the benefits of the excursion would be worth the anxiety that wound the muscles of his back into painful knots and kept him up at night wearing pacing tracks in his carpet. They only had a week until their match against Ireland to work through whatever it was that happened to them in Hogsmeade. 

After a deep, steadying breath, Daichi pushed his way through the canvas flaps and entered the tent. 

Even though it was much bigger on the inside than it appeared on the outside, the tent felt small. The layers of robes, extra pads, bags with clean changes of clothes, broomsticks, backup broomsticks, multiple trunks of Quidditch sets and the gathered members of the Japanese National Team, not one of which could be considered petite, made it almost impossible to breathe. Daichi almost missed the frigid November air on the other side of the thick, canvas walls. 

Daichi thought the guys would be sluggish, given that the sun had only risen an hour before, but everyone was gathered in the center of the tent, shouting and laughing and hitting each other with such fervor that no one noticed his entrance. Daichi regretted not succumbing to voice that told him not to get out of bed that morning, and he briefly considered exiting the way he came, but Kuroo caught his eye before he could escape. Kuroo cocked a brow like he knew exactly what Daichi was thinking and snorted, jerking his chin toward the center of the swirling red and white-robed vortex. 

Daichi narrowed his eyes to find the instigator of the morning madness and groaned when he saw the tips of Nishinoya Yuu’s hair, gelled up as high as they could stand. He sucked in his first big breath of the day and filled his lungs as much air as he needed to be heard above the din. 

“Quiet!”

The mob fell silent and stepped aside, granting him a clear path to Nishinoya, who had frozen in place with a few pages of beat-up parchment dangling from one hand and a photograph from another. Daichi quietly bemoaned his situation, simultaneously afraid to ask what had everyone so worked up at six in the morning for fear of starting another flurry of conversation and damned curious as to what had everyone so enraptured that they didn’t notice their Captain’s entrance. 

What did they say in English? Ah yes, Daichi remembered, curiosity killed the cat. 

“What the hell has everyone so worked up?”

Nishinoya, suddenly thawed and looking downright giddy, flew into Daichi’s personal space. 

“Daichi-san! Asahi-san wrote me again from Hogsmeade!” He thrust the photo he had been holding in Daichi’s face. “And he sent me a picture!”

Daichi grabbed Nishinoya’s wrist and pushed it away until he could focus on the image. He recognized Azumane Asahi, staring into the camera with a sweet smile on his face and raising a glass. Daichi stopped short of examining the rest of the photo when he saw the brand new scarf around Azumane’s neck, hanging over an equally crisp red and white shirt. Both clothing items belonged to a set of official team merchandise that had been graciously given to them by one of their sponsors to wear with the strict promise that they wouldn’t distribute the goods to the general public without jeopardizing their contract. He felt the tips of his fingers tingle with the urge to strangle Nishinoya on the spot, right in front of their teammates. “What, exactly, am I looking at?” 

“Oh!” Nishinoya said brightly, ignoring the deep crimson of his Captain’s cheeks. “That’s Asahi-san, remember? From Hogsmeade? My boyfriend, maybe? Hopefully?”

“No, I meant what, oh.” Daichi had moved his finger to the second figure in the photograph, also clad in matching contraband merchandise, but the rest of his question died a quick and painless death in the back of his throat. 

The first thing he noticed, after the clothing in question, was the person’s hair. It was an unusual shade of silvery blonde and it reflected the warm orange light from bewitched lanterns that hovered over the tables inside The Three Broomsticks, the interior of which Daichi recognized from the panels of wood and exposed stone. He was drawn even further in by the rich flush on the person’s cheeks, most likely from the ale they held as a glass rose in and out of the frame. They smiled as they toasted the person taking the picture, Daichi’s spirit lifting as their toothy grin took over their face. 

Sawamura Daichi been around magic his entire life. It felt like the very definition of logic and a natural extension of the world, connecting what they could see to what they couldn’t, and using magic granted him a firm understanding of where he fit within the world. He never really thought about what the concept of magic might mean for Muggles, being people who could only speculate on the unseen. 

How could one live in a world without magic?

But, looking into a stranger’s eyes in a photograph, he realized with a start that the pleasant warmth flooding his system had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with the way the person’s amber eyes spoke to him. Daichi thought he might understand what it would be like for a Muggleborn wizard to experience magic for the first time, to experience something that was so much more than you ever hoped possible while also intuitively recognizing that it was a fundamental part of how you would see the universe from that moment on. 

Going even further, Daichi began to think that maybe he had been wrong about Muggles this whole time, that even though they couldn’t hold wands or cast spells they could still feel the vibrant energy that connected everything when they looked at someone who took their breath away. 

He had been enchanted without a spell. 

The thought was so damn cheesy that Daichi was about to physically kick himself, but the weight of the world came crashing down on him when he remembered the entire team was there, watching him gawk at a photograph and burning holes through his nice practice robes. “Everyone, out!” He shouted without turning around, afraid that his voice would shake. “Get started on the drills from yesterday!” 

Daichi heard some of the guys pick up and others summon their broomsticks and he listened carefully as their feet shuffled away from him, toward the opening of the tent. Nishinoya tried to follow the rest of the team, but Daichi grabbed his arm and held him in place until he was sure they were alone. 

Nishinoya’s muscles tensed as he braced himself, expecting to bear the brunt of Daichi’s anger, but Daichi was as surprised as Nishinoya was to find that his anger had fizzled completely. 

“Who was that person standing next to Azumane?” Daichi asked as casually as he could, given that he was still gripping Nishinoya’s wrist guard. 

“That guy,” Nishinoya answered, “is Asahi-san’s friend, Suga-san.”

The knowing grin that unfurled across the lower half of Nishinoya’s face would haunt Daichi for the rest of his days and words were becoming increasingly difficult the more he looked at the man smiling through Nishinoya’s fingers, but Daichi figured he could slap himself after practice when he replayed this god-awful interaction in his head. “Did you, I mean, was he, does he live in Hogsmeade too?” 

Nishinoya blinked as he processed Daichi’s string of words and, for the first time ever, Daichi was grateful that Nishinoya spoke a very specific form of bumbling idiot.

“He doesn’t live in Hogsmeade, so I didn’t meet him in person, but we did talk over the muggle box that he gave Asahi-san! It was so cool, just talking to him in person. I didn’t realize muggles could that!”

Nishinoya’s obliviousness was a helpful distraction. “That’s a mobile phone,” Daichi explained, regaining his composure. “Didn’t you have to take Muggle Studies at Hogwarts?”

“I did,” Nishinoya whined, “but how could I pay attention when Quidditch doesn’t exist there?”

Daichi gave him that one. “But it would’ve come in handy now.”

“That’s almost exactly what Asahi-san told me. Oh man,” he said, suddenly looking small. He wasn’t a tall guy, but Daichi had never seen him shrink into himself. “I miss him, Daichi-san. How crazy is that?”

Daichi thought about it, not as the captain of a national Quidditch team but as Nishinoya’s peer. Nishinoya had met someone he never thought he’d meet or even hear about again, connected with them, and then had to rip himself away. Daichi had never felt that strongly about anything other than Quidditch and his family, so it was hard to empathize, but he wondered if he would’ve been able to walk away if he had met the person in the photograph. 

“I’m sorry I sent them the scarves and stuff, I know I wasn’t supposed to,” Nishinoya sniffled. “But Suga-san doesn’t get to visit very often and he’s a big fan and Asahi-san was super supportive and I wanted to do something special for them because they deserve it.”

Daichi listened in silence, unsure of what to say. He wasn’t familiar with repentant Nishinoya, though he did recognize the Nishinoya that took care of the people who were important to him.

“I shouldn’t have done it,” Nishinoya continued, “and I’ll do whatever it takes so the team doesn’t get in trouble, only me-”

He looked down at his feet as he apologized, and something about the posture made Daichi’s skin crawl. “Shut up for a second,” Daichi said, cutting Nishinoya off. “We can talk about that later.”

Nishinoya looked up. “You’re not mad?”

“I’m very mad,” Daichi said cooly. It wasn’t a lie, and he could almost feel the headache that he was sure to get when dealing with the fallout of Nishinoya’s brash decision, but he could deal with that another time, when his vision wasn’t blurry with smiles and blonde hair. “But Azumane’s friend, Suga-san? You said he was visiting?”

“Yeah,” Nishinoya answered, drawing out the word cautiously. “Suga-san lives in France with his family. He’s a Muggleborn, that’s why he knows so much about Muggle stuff, like talking boxes.”

“Mobile phones,” Daichi corrected again. They both heard the broomsticks that zipped precariously close to the top of the tent and the accompanying shouted commands, and Daichi was anxious to join them, but every time he considered summoning his broomstick, another question spilled over his lips instead. “If he lives in France, how did he and Azumane meet?”

Nishinoya looked at Daichi like he had grown a second head. “Holy shit, I never asked.”

Daichi ached to continue the conversation, but asking a million questions about someone he’d never have the chance to meet suddenly seemed ridiculous, especially when they had so little time to get themselves ready for Ireland. Daichi had no trouble letting himself down, but he’d be damned before doing that to the team. “Doesn’t matter,” he said gruffly. “Let’s just get going. The next match won’t win itself.”

“You’re damn right,” Nishinoya said, his face regaining some of the color it had lost during their conversation. He called for his broomstick and let out a sigh of relief when the wooden handle smacked against his gloved palm. “Hey, Daichi-san? How does it work if we want to get free tickets to matches?”

Daichi rolled his eyes. “You’ve gotten tickets before.”

“I know! But that was for my grandpa. Is it different for friends?”

“It’s the same procedure,” Daichi said, his interest piquing unfairly right as they were about to step out of the tent. “Why?”

“I know we just played France, and it’s too late to get tickets for Ireland, but I was thinkin’ I’d see if I could get tickets for Asahi-san when we play England, and maybe, just maybe, if Suga-san has the time, I can find a way to get him to the match so he can stay with Asahi-san and have fun again.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’d be fine,” Daichi mumbled, his stomach flipping more with each second as he considered meeting the enchanting man in the picture and what having a person with that much power over him might mean for his image as a reasonable guy. 

“Great! Then I’ll make sure to introduce you after, when we’re celebrating!”

Daichi sputtered just as they pulled the tent flaps aside and stepped out onto the grass. Nishinoya beamed at him before hopping on his broom and taking off, barrel-rolling right through Tanaka and Yamamoto. 

“Don’t tell me something’s rattled our Captain?” 

Kuroo leaned against the outside of the tent with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked comfortable, like he had been standing there the whole time. Daichi started walking quickly, toward the center of the practice pitch, but Kuroo matched his stride. “Just saying, you look more perturbed than usual this morning, Sawamura.”

“Nishinoya distributed official merchandise and jeopardized our relationship with some of our biggest sponsors,” Daichi said, looking forward. “Of course I’m _perturbed_.”

“That’s a pretty serious offense, but I didn’t hear much shouting.”

Daichi continued to avoid Kuroo’s inquiring gaze. It wasn’t the most mature way to respond, but the last thing he needed was to provide Kuroo with yet another way of bothering him. 

“Maybe it wasn’t _something_ , but _someone_?”

“Shut up,” Daichi growled. 

Kuroo clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Not likely.”

Daichi cursed to himself, a little annoyed that he couldn’t actually blame his current frustration on Kuroo, or anyone other than himself and perhaps a certain blonde from France. Worried for his sanity in the days to come, he resolved to grill Nishinoya later. Until then, he had a team to whip into shape. “You’ll be able to shut your mouth when I’ve blocked every single one of your shots today,” Daichi quipped.

“I’d hate to sound like a broken record, but, again, not likely.”

Daichi pounded the grass with the sole of his boot in response and shot into the sky, knowing that Kuroo wouldn’t be far behind.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!! The kagehina portion to this story isn't abandoned, just, life, ya know? I love this AU and will continue to add to it when I can! 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed <3


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